Reweaving Fate's Tapestry
by bluemeanies
Summary: Voldemort is defeated. Draco Malfoy is miserable and on the run. Could time travel rectify this situation? Or only make it worse? And what is it with the dancing already? abandoned
1. Obliviate

**Reweaving Fates Tapestry (or I Should Have Been a Ballet Dancer)**

_From the record of the lecture of Professor P. Doxical, Hogwart's Charms Master, January 10th, 1942:_

"Time travel, one of the most poorly understood and dangerous branches of magic.  Even an inactive observer may change the course of history by carrying with him a disease, or losing something insignificant in the past that has yet to be uncovered.  The possibility for disruption is exponentially greater when someone enters the past intending to change the future.  In these cases, there will almost inevitably be some changes, just not necessarily the ones aimed for."

***

_1999, or a year after the second fall of Voldemort_

Draco Malfoy was miserable.  Strike that. Draco Malfoy's life had gone beyond miserable and was downright hellish.  Destitute lepers in Turkish prisons, in his opinion, led a more joyful life than him.  His life was in absolute tatters.  He had had his destiny stolen from him.  He should have been great, top advisor and heir to Voldemort, the greatest ruler the wizarding world would ever know.  It had always been a dream of his, since he was little, but for a long time there was no hope of realizing it.  Then, one glorious day in his fourth year of education, Lord Voldemort returned, ready to bring him to the honor he deserved, to set things right, to make the world it should be.  And, for a time, his dream had seemed to be coming true.  He hadn't actually been named heir yet, but Voldemort was well on his way to becoming supreme ruler of the Wizarding world and they could work out the details of succession later.

Except there wasn't going to be a later.  Harry Potter saw to that.  When the Dark Lord's victory had seemed inevitable, that arrogant, bigheaded idiot was lucky for a second time and created defeat from inevitable victory.  It had caused him, Draco, extreme difficulty.  His family couldn't get off the hook for the second time under the Imperios defence, so they had gone into hiding.  And Draco had the feeling that they were closing in on him ever since he had approached Professor Snape, asking for help.  He kept running into the same people and sometimes thought he saw someone tailing him.  He was almost out of time.

Which was why he was returning to the mansion now.  His family had inherited a good number of Voldemort's possessions following Potter's first lucky chance, and the ministry had yet to uncover the crypt where the great majority of them were hidden.  It was a desperate chance, but it was his best. As the Auror making rounds turned the corner, Draco made a mad dash for the house.  He crept silently through the corridors and hidden passageways until he reached it.  Ignoring the many sharp and deadly looking objects, he went straight to a pile of rather old and dusty books.  Picking up the first one, he blew the dust off the spine, read the title, then quickly tossed it away.  He did this to the next ten books until he finally found one that pleased him, "Time Travel: Reweaving Fate's Tapestry by Professor P. Doxical".  This book had, immediately after the first publication, been put on the Ministries restricted list.  Most copies were now destroyed, with one or two rumored to be in the possession of the Department of Mysteries  He scanned through the pages until he saw something that put a grin on his face.  He pulled out his wand, about to cast a spell, then stopped himself.  He reached down, picked up the book as well as another, then re-raised his wand.  He grinned a wicked grin.  If Voldemort were to not fall a first time, then his life would be in proper order.  He was sure of that.  With a flick of his wrist and a quick incantation, he disappeared, right before the Aurors stumbled across the door.

***

October 16, 1981 

Draco fell to the ground with a hard thud.  Picking himself up and brushing off the dust, he slipped out of the crypt.  He had business to get to and only two weeks in which to do it.  But first, he had to get out of the mansion and find Peter Pettigrew.  He walked slowly towards the fireplace, twice being nearly spotted, first by his father and Professor Snape arguing over a poison that had, for some reason, become ineffective in an attempt to assassinate Bartemius Crouch, and a second time by Dobby the house-elf who was singing a lullaby to him, as a baby, in front of the fire.  This was in itself weird and disjointed him.  That whining thing in the blankets was him?  But soon, the younger Draco had stopped crying and Dobby had carried him away towards the nursery.  Then he grabbed a handful of floo powder and yelled "Godric's Hollow". 

Once at Godric's Hollow, Draco paid for a room on the top floor of a bed and breakfast from which he could see the Potter's house, even though the innkeeper had looked suspiciously at the mint dates on some of the Galleons.  But what business was it of hers that the money was minted ten years in the future so long as it is good?  

He then opened the other book, the official record of Voldemort's first rise, and turned to the end. He was pleased to see that he had gotten the right date.  Staring out the window, he waited until the sun had gone down and the stars were starting to peek out of the sky.  A short and slightly plump man in a well-tailored suit was nervously exiting the Potter's house.  He looked distracted and a lot healthier than Draco had remembered him, but there was no doubt that it was Peter Pettigrew.  Draco slowly walked towards him.  Pettigrew started running, but Draco Apparated in front of him to cut him off.  He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Pettigrew's temple.  "Obliviate"

AN:  I know I should work on other stories, but this is the bunny that won't leave me alone.  It must be written.  The AUs of the next few chapters have been bursting in my head.  Poor Draco, so confused.


	2. Ticklish?

**Reweaving Fate's Tapestry (or I Should Have Been a Ballet Dancer)**

Chapter 2:  Ticklish? 

From the record of the lecture of Professor P. Doxical, Hogwart's Charms Master, January 10th, 1942:

"From any point in time, when observing the future there is always a fog obscuring the view.  So when one enters the past and wishes to change the present, millions of unknown details interfere with intention.  The new present, which, at the time of the change to the past, is the future, could and almost definitely will change in a variety of unexpected ways."

***

July 6th, 1983 

"Are you sure he'll be there,"  Frank Longbottom said to Sirius Black.

"No, but it is the best lead we have," Sirius replied.

"Because, I mean you don't exactly have the best record, what with losing the Potters," Frank said

"For the last time, I didn't lose the Potters, Pettigrew was the secret keeper.  How he could be so forgetful I'll never know,"

"Come on, Dumbledore says you were their secret keeper, you're just to embarrassed to admit you forgot the secret.  It can happen to the best of us,"

Sirius shook his head, "Alright, according to our informant, Voldemort should be at Malfoy mansion at three o'clock tonight.  We have other information that his attempts at immortality seem to have given him a rather bizarre Achilles Heel in the Rictusempuria charm, so…"

"So we enter the mansion at three and tickle him to death," Frank said shaking his head, "If this works, no one will believe it, you know."

"I don't care whether they believe it or not, I just want it to work."

***

_1999 (again)_

Draco had, after obliviating Pettigrew, consulted, once again, Nott's record.  However, the book was having the most curious interaction with time.  It would not tell him of any events that would happen after the current date.  So, after being bad and Apparating into a Queen concert so he could actually hear Freddy Mercury live (he knew he shouldn't like Muggle music, but he couldn't help himself in the case of Bohemian Rhapsody), he returned to his own time, where Voldemort's empire should be.

Quickly checking the book to make sure he had stopped Voldemort from attacking the Potter's, he was pleased to see that not only had Peter never been able to give Voldemort their location, he had been properly tortured for it.  Draco had never really liked that rat, and felt he was to blame for many of Voldemort's problems, so it always put a smile on his face to even read about the man being Crucio'd.  He made his way to the Leaky Cauldron so he can see this wonderful new world that he had created.  Voldemort, once he heard the story, would surely reward him.

Upon entering the Leaky Cauldron, Draco felt there was something a little odd going on.  For one thing, there was a plaque on the wall with, incomprehensibly, the word "Rictusempuria; July 6, 1983" written on it.  For another, he could have sworn that the men in the corner had said that Neville Longbottom had led the Chudley Cannons to victory in the Quidditch league.  And finally, there was a woman telling him he should be at rehearsal for some unknown reason.  He shrugged the lady off, and walked into Diagon Alley.  

What he saw shocked him.  The main difference from the Diagon Alley he remembered, was a large statue of Frank Longbottom and Sirius Black in the middle of the street.  This worried him, because he was pretty sure Voldemort would not want to memorialize people like that.  The orange poster featuring Neville Longbottom on a broomstick didn't exactly comfort him either.  Was the world insane?  Where was the ruling Death Eater class?  Thoroughly confused, Draco ran, straight to Borgin 'n Burkes on Knockturn Alley. 

To Draco's relief, the shop was not much different.  Opening the door, he saw old Mr. Borgin behind the counter and waved.  Mr. Borgin gaped when he saw Draco.

"Why, if it isn't young Master Malfoy.  Haven't seen you since you were a wee one, not since '83 I think,'

"Didn't my father bring me here more frequently than that?  I seem to recall…"  Malfoy said edgily, being now thoroughly confused.  Borgin 'n Burkes had always been one of his favorite shops when he was younger.

"Now, don't play games with me, young Malfoy.  You know perfectly well your father was arrested following the Great Tickle…"  Borgin said with an indulgent smile on his face.

"Great Tickle?"  Draco's head was spinning.

"Yes, when Longbottom and Black defeated Lord Voldemort, of course you knew about that Mr. Malfoy?  Or did you bonk your head or something?"  Borgin said.

"Oh, yes, that Great Tickle.  Slipped my mind for a second, sorry Mr. Borgin,"  Draco said, trying to recover the conversation and not get himself committed to St. Mungo's.

"Well, as I was saying, after the Great Tickle we didn't see much of you.  Your mother, having told the Aurors where to find Voldemort, was mortally afraid of some of the people on the Alley, and kept you away."

"M..m..my mother…"  Draco stumbled.

"Now, no need to apologize, Young Master Malfoy.  I know you didn't have much to do with it.  And she raised you just fine, it seems, though I don't quite understand why she was so keen on you learning ballet."

"Ballet!"  Draco blurted, he was going to be sick.

"Now, no need to be worried.  I didn't think it right at first, but when I saw you in _The Nutcracker_ last winter, I saw she had been right.  You really are a genius.  Now what can I help you for?"  Borgin asked.

"Not really interested, thank you for the conversation though,"  Draco said as he ran out of the shop.  Borgin shook his head and muttered, "Always believed they shouldn't use Billiwigs in the shows, drives them mental."

Draco ran down the street and sat down on a bench beside the hideous statue.  He pulled Nott's record out of his bag, and decided to read about the Great Tickle.  What he saw upset him.  It was absolutely ridiculous!  Voldemort defeated by a tickle!  Of course, Harry Potter had disappeared off the face of the earth because no one except the Potter's Secret Keeper could find him, and none of the candidates for Secret Keeper knew the secret.  But then there was his mother.  He had always thought his mother was a faithful Death Eater.  How could she have turned on them?  And ballet?  He didn't know what to do, so he went to Florean Fortesque's to get some ice cream.  Maybe that would help him gain some perspective.

What he saw at Fortesque's firmly made up his mind to go back in time and try again.  There was Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley (in a Chudley Cannons Jersey), kissing rather passionately and publicly, in front of an advertisement for "The Hogsmeade Ballet Company's Production of Sleeping Beauty, Featuring the Amazing Draco Malfoy"

***

_July 6th, 1983_

Draco arrived in the past and quickly apparated to Malfoy Mansion, beginning the search for the Auror party.  He looked through the hedges, and all around the gardens before finally seeing two backs.

"I don't care whether they believe it or not, I just want it to work,"  Sirius Black said.

"As do I,' Frank responded.

"Expeliarmus,"  Draco said, collecting their wands.  "Unfortunately for you, some of us don't."

"Lucius!!"  Sirius screamed.  Unfortunately for the Aurors, the commotion had, attracted the attention of the real Lucius and Lord Voldemort.  Draco got up and ran past the Apparation barrier, just in time to miss the screams of the Aurors being attacked by the Death Eaters without their wands.


	3. SOS

**Reweaving Fate's Tapestry (or I Should Have Been a Ballet Dancer)**

Chapter 3: …---… 

From the record of the lecture of Professor P. Doxical, Hogwart's Charms Master, January 10th, 1942:

"With each change we make, we close some paths in the future, but allow others which had been denied by the current history to take shape.  These denied paths create their own story, for better or worse.  Sometimes the beginnings of these paths can be seen in the history we know, and sometimes they are completely unexpected."

***

September 17, 1985 

Severus Snape placed the package on the owl's leg, and then quickly got back to work.  He was careful to stir only counter-clockwise and twice a minute, like he believed he should.  New experimental potions usually took much trial and error; but this one, he had to get right on the first try.  And the fact that the potion, which he was altering to achieve his results, was not exactly the easiest to master, his alterations could have worse effects than he planned.  He could actually succeed in making Voldemort immortal instead of killing him.

His continuing betrayal of the Dark Lord was bothering him.  He wanted out, cleanly and quickly, but Dumbledore wanted him to stay in and without Dumbledore he had no protection. So when Voldemort ordered him to make the Nectar of the God's Potion in his continual quest for immortality, Snape decided to be bold. He had severed contact with Dumbledore, knowing the old man would object to the danger he was putting himself in, and worked day and night to create a version of the Nectar that instead of lending the drinker immortal, would reverse all previous immortality attempts and poison the drinker.  And after adding just a little more lacewings and perhaps 'accidentally' dropping in a salamander's tail or two, he was sure he had it.  There was an explosion a foot above the cauldron and the potion turned from blue to orange.  It was ready.

***

_1999 (again)_

Draco was quite proud of himself.  He had saved Voldemort not once, but twice, and now surely there would be an evil empire in which he would be praised and chosen to rule.  Tickling?  Neville Longbottom playing professional Quidditch?  Him dancing ballet?  That was a bad dream he could now forget.  He Apparated into the Leaky Cauldron to see the fruits of his labor.

Immediately after arriving at the cauldron, Draco felt himself pushed against the wall by two men.

"Name," said one of the blue uniformed men who had slammed him against the wall.  He stared at them in silence.

"I asked for your name, sir," the man leered.

"Draco Malfoy,' He gasped.

"Do you support the Ministry against the rebellion?"  The man asked.

"What reb…" Draco said, noticing the men's Auror uniforms. "Of Course." He smiled.  The Auror who had been silent let go but the one who had been asking the questions only pushed Draco harder.

"Marcus, I think you can let him go now, Draco Malfoy has performed in 'Swan Lake' at the Minister's mansion, I think his loyalty is assured," said the previously silent Auror, whose Weasley red hair Draco had just noticed.  

"Just the type of reaction you'd expect from someone whose family are traitors, Charlie," Marcus said. "You need to go in for loyalty testing again?"

"You think the minister would be happy if one of his favorite performers were injured?"  Charlie said.  Marcus thought for a minute and let Draco down.

"We'd better not be seeing any trouble from you, or next time we catch you we won't be nearly as nice," Marcus scowled at him and sat at a table with Charlie, presumably to watch for the next patron to jump.  

Draco rubbed his collarbone and ordered a Firewhisky, before setting off into the Alley.  What he saw was more shocking than the Cannons winning the Quidditch league.  Many of the buildings had been reduced to rubble and Aurors heavily patrolled the street.  Everyone on the street walked quickly and with purpose: there were no boys ogling the newest broomstick, or kids hanging out eating ice cream.  All in all it was depressing.  Looking around, trying to understand what was happening, he noticed a symbol etched into the glass at Madame Malkin's.  And the same one etched on Ollivanders window.  Nervously, Draco stopped a passerby.

"Excuse me, what does that mean?" He said, pointing to the etching.  The man shook his head and hurried away.  He tried a few others, but they all had a similar reaction.  Finally, and Auror confronted him and told him to leave the people alone.  Tired, Draco rented out a room in the Leaky Cauldron.  He undressed and showered before collapsing on his bed.

***

There was a creak of light.  Draco awoke startled, grabbed his wand and ran towards the door.

"Stupefy," he yelled.  He then turned on the light and looked at his intruder.  It was the Charlie Auror from this morning.  After first binding him, Draco woke him.

"What were you doing here?"  Draco asked.

"Heard you were asking about the symbols.  I would think that a Malfoy would know better than to make such a public display, but I must have been wrong," Charlie said

"Well, why?"  Draco replied.  "What do those symbols mean?" He said while drawing the …---…

"Come on Malfoy, don't play stupid, you know.  Morse code," Charlie said.

"If I know, then you can tell me," Draco said.

"Your father was friends with him, of course you should know S.O.S."

"Who?" 

"Severus Octavious Snape, now stop playing stupid," Charlie said, exasperated.

"Better to play stupid than for your friend Marcus to come in here and pound me a few more times," Draco said, rubbing his collar bone.

"Marcus honestly believes Minister Crouch when he says that the potion was luck.  Snape was found unconscious next to the dead Voldemort and he got put in jail for being a Death Eater, despite Dumbledore's testimony concerning his spy status and the journal received by the International Alchemists Association that detailed how the potion was made.  The man's a genius but Crouch'll never let him out," Charlie said.

Professor Snape defeated Voldemort.  But…but… Professor Snape had always supported his efforts at school, would nod when he said something mean about Dumbledore, and would lead them out of the castle for the Death Eater circles.  Snape was loyal… wasn't he?  There were often faltering poisons and unexpected survivors on missions Snape was sent on but they had all attributed it to the difficulty of the missions.  And then there was the fact that his tail had started immediately after talking to Snape… and, well Draco had to admit it just might be true.

"So this whole rebellion, it's about Professor Snape, right?" Draco asked.

"I never had you pegged for clueless Malfoy.  Are you here to test my loyalty, because I can assure you that the Ministry hasn't been good to me.  My dad lost his job for contradicting Crouch's policy, my older brother Bill was carted off for having dated a Slytherin at school three years ago.  Me and Percy try our hardest but we're never sure if we'll be fired and the family won't be able to support themselves.  Fred and George have gone underground, and Ron and Ginny want to as soon as possible.  But you already knew that,"  Charlie said.  

Draco just gaped. Charlie continued "Come on, they took your parents too.  First your dad, because he was inner circle, but they came for your mom too, even after they had promised her and you immunity and protection.  It was not her fault the Black Longbottom raid failed, but they put her in for trumped up sabotage charges.  Don't you trust me?  I know all this and won't hurt you, I promise, just let me go."

A grin appeared on his face, "Thank you."

"For what?" Charlie said, startled.

"For telling me what is going on," Draco replied.

"Aren't you going to let me go?"  

"No, but I can promise you that the future will be different," Draco said. "Stupefy."  He then retreated from the Auror back to the bed.  He picked up Nott's record and started reading.  If he was going to get rid of Snape then he had better come up with a plan.

***

_August 20th, 1985_

"'Never trust a betrayer, they might come to betray you in turn,' Albus, that's what I've always said.  And at the last seen of the latest attack, we found a letter from Lucius to Voldemort detailing Snape's double cross.  I know you don't want to hear it, you like to give people second chances but the boy is bad news,"  Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody said, sitting in the Headmaster's office enjoying a cup of tea.

"Then the letter was a plant.  He has been consistent.  You yourself have verified his truthfulness many times with Veritaserum.  I see no reason not to trust him, this is just mis-information," Dumbledore sighed.

"Albus, the boy is crafty.  I wouldn't put it past him to have come up with a counter to Veritaserum.  He might be truthful, but I wouldn't want to take my chances.  Better to capture him and be safe, then let him bring the whole thing down, I say. Constant Vigilance." Moody lifted his cup and slammed it on the desk, sending tea flying.

Dumbledore got up to grab a towel. "I just believe him, Alastor.  I don't find it likely at all that he is double crossing us."

"Well, then why don't you ask him? Arrange a meeting and confront him.  If he's lying I'll gladly arrest him myself," Alastor said.

"Well…"

"Albus, if the letter is true we're better off knowing now than later."

***

August 27th 

Draco was glad his skill in forging his father's writing was proving so useful.  It wasn't that hard to stage a Death Eater attack, he had been on enough in his own time.  It had been no trouble to intercept the owls to Snape either, not with a good summoning spell.  The second letter, 'carelessly' dropped in Knockturn Alley had told the Aurors about the Nectar and where to find Snape.  That, and the lack of communication, cemented the decision to take Snape down before the potion was done.  Draco peered from his hiding spot up a tree as the Aurors stormed Snape's laboratory and came out carrying a body bag.  Making the world safe for Voldemort was hard work.

AN: SweetSlytherin: Humorous, well maybe some parts.  I can't help adding humor even at my angstyest.  Thank you for reading.

Disclaimer:  Eeeeeek, I forgot this at the beginning, but please consider it retroactive.  They are all not mine.  Understand.  Not mine.  Well, Professor Doxical is mine, but no one else.


	4. I'm not a Pansy

**Reweaving Fate's Tapestry (or I Should Have Been a Ballet Dancer)**

Chapter 4: I'm not a Pansy 

_From the record of the lecture of Professor P. Doxical, Hogwart's Charms Master, January 10th, 1942:_

"Now, you might ask if, when a person goes into the past and changes their own past why they still remember the history in which they originated.  Unlike inanimate objects, human beings who undergo time travel seem immune to change.  The best explanation yet forwarded is the theory of Swiss chronologist Zeit.  He proposed that since the altered future is dependent on the actions of someone aware of the original future, the time traveler must exist with memories of the original future for an altered personification of the traveler to exist in the new time period, and thus cannot cease to exist after the change has occurred."

***

_June l 6, 1993_

Pansy Parkinson looked at herself in the mirror and frowned.

"Why can't I be more pretty?  Draco will never notice ugly old pug-nosed me."

"He's probably gay.  You know he does dance ballet?"  Her mirror retorted.   But that didn't stop her from having a crush on him, Pansy thought with a sigh. Crash.

Turning around, she saw a man flying in through her window.  She quickly grabbed her wand and pointed it at him.  Seeing his blue robes she thought that she might be rewarded for killing him.  But before she had a chance, another man slipped in through the window.  At first she didn't recognize him, but upon seeing his red eyes she panicked.  Lord Voldemort?  In her bedroom?  Why couldn't she be in her lace pajamas at a time like this instead of a flannel nightgown?

"I've got you now Weasley," Voldemort sneered at the balding red headed man on the floor.  Weasley reached for his wand and pointed.  Voldemort only laughed at him and said "Crucio".  Weasley tried a spell, she thought it was Rictusempuria, but it was misdirected and Pansy had to duck.  Voldemort's eyes shifted towards her.  He smiled then lifted Cruciatus from Weasley.  

"Imperio," Voldemort said, pointing at Weasley.  "Now we can't have any witnesses to our little fun, can we Arthur?"  The red head nodded and pulled out his wand.  It took Pansy a second or two to realize they meant her, and then ran behind her mirror.  Apparently her reflexes were fast enough because the Avada Kedavra completely missed her and hit the mirror.  The voice in the mirror was shrieking but apparently not dying.  The green light was being refracted from the mirror and hitting Voldemort between the eyes, causing smoke to come out of his forehead.  After what seemed like an eternity Arthur Weasley lowered his wand and shivered.  Voldemort collapsed to the floor.  Pansy crawled out of her hiding spot.

"Is he … dead?  Is it possible?  My dad said he was immortal," Pansy blurted.

Weasley shook his head but he was smiling, "His body's still alive, but I don't think he'll be much of a threat now.  I think it blew his brains out."

***

_1999 (again)_

Draco Malfoy skimmed through Nott's record of the first rise of Voldemort.  No Boy Who Lived, No Tickling, No Nectar of the Gods, everything seemed fine.  Except that it apparently ended with only the note, in a different handwriting, saying that Nott was captured in 1992.  Well, that was at least seven years better than last time.  He walked into the Leaky Cauldron, hoping that this time would be last.  The more he thought about it, the less happy he was about having to kill Professor Snape, but he knew it was for the ultimate good.  Voldemort's empire had to come about somehow.

At the Leaky Cauldron he saw a stunning blond witch signing autographs and talking to patrons in a pink robe.  It was funny, but she wasn't anyone she knew from this reality.

"Draco, oy, Draco," she said waving him down.  Seeing him not react, she pulled him to sit at his table.

"So how are things working out between you and Ernie?  Haven't seen you in the longest time not since you starred in Don Quixote," she said.

"Well, you can't go chasing windmill's all the time," he said trying to think of an Ernie he knew.  It just didn't seem to fit any girl he knew, and was definitely not Slytherinish.  It seemed more like a Hufflepuff, like that Macmillan kid who went out with the pigtailed girl before she died… what was his name…

"Well its good to see you well," She replied.  "You want a butterbeer, or can I tempt you for something stronger?"

"Butterbeer is fine, err…" He said.

"Honestly Draco, it's Pansy, Pansy Parkinson," she scoffed.

"Oh, yes, stupid me," Draco replied.  This was Pansy?  The Pansy he knew was whiny, manipulative… well, this one was pretty and seemed nice enough.  Maybe she would be interested in being consort to the heir to Voldemort's empire?  The waiter placed a mug of butterbeer at his place.

"Honestly Draco, I don't know how you could be so dense.  Don't you know me?  Back in third year after the mirror incident you were all over me.  That was of course before you decided you liked Ernie.  I mean we should have known you swung that way, what with all the ballet…" Draco choked for a second then spit out all the butterbeer in shock.  Pansy stared at him for a while.  "Well, I know there are some straight male ballet dancers, just not the majority.  Weren't you telling me this just last Christmas?"  She said with a wink.  Draco ran out of the Leaky Cauldron.

What had he done and why was he gay?  Well, he could dye his hair or something and not be confused for mister prima ballerina when he was heir to the evil empire.  Ernie Macmillan?  Draco shook his head.  He ducked into Flourish and Blott's, hoping Pansy wouldn't come looking in.  Well, maybe here would be a good place to begin the process of contacting the empire.  He walked to the history section, and leafed through a history of the dark arts.  He was surprised to see Pansy's mirror incident mentioned on one page and decided to take a closer look.  Voldemort was on the permanent invalids wing of St. Mungo's?  Why did he have to do all the work keeping that man alive and well? After buying the book he set out.

***

June 16, 1993 

"Why can't I be more pretty?  Draco will never notice ugly old pug-nosed me." 

"He's probably gay.  You know,"  ^Pop^

"I am not," Draco said apparating in and punching through the mirror.  Just then, a redheaded man came flying through the window and knocked him down.  Quickly getting up, Draco apparated away just in time to see Voldemort enter the room.

AN:  Regards to slash and this story, well after I made him a ballerina, I felt I had to do it once, at least.  But, different universe Dracos will like girls.  Besides, Draco/Ernie is rather… weird wouldn't you say?  If you have a problem with it, well at least one of our Dracos does as well.  And I probably won't do it again, so you can go on to the next chapter now.

Thank you Kiara and Nina Wood (of course he does, you really think Voldemort would have won if Harry hadn't stopped him?)

Disclaimer:  You know the drill, they are not mine


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